


Black Boy

by Ischa



Series: Black Boy [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Gangbang, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Racist Language, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Slavery, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an Alternate History period piece of some sorts. It's also shameless porn. In which three noble men and a black servant/slave boy enjoy some carnal activities.<br/></p><p>
  <i> “I love watching your brother come, Little Lord,” Bastian said. They weren't touching as they watched Thomas play with the boy. As they watched and strained to hear what filthy things he was telling the boy.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Icalynn for the last minute beta. Please consider all the warnings.  
> This was written for a challenge, but in the end rejected by the mods. I think it’s a good piece of writing, so here you have it. A prequel is in the works.

**~one~**

The boy was as black as night. Francis had never seen a boy so dark before. The servants at Lord Byron’s house were all a lovely caramel. 

It was strange seeing the boy amongst all these people. He didn’t fit, and Francis thought, he never would. What had Bastian been thinking bringing that boy? Showing him off like a pet. 

Francis suppressed a glare and watched the boy socialize. His manors were perfect. His speaking patterns soft and sure, there was a subtle hint of an accent that Francis couldn’t place. 

He watched as the boy leaned over Lady Marianne’s hand to kiss it in greeting and she smiled at him, but as soon as he turned around she discreetly rubbed her hand on her dress. 

Francis hated her in that moment and he hated being here. Appearances had to be made, though. 

He drank the rest of his wine in one go and placed the glass on one of the many tables. He needed fresh air. Lord Wintermer was making rude comments about the boy and Francis wanted to hit him.  
He saw out of the corner of his eye that he boy must have heard it, because he flinched slightly as Lord Wintermer called him a dirty bush-boy in a pretty dress. 

Francis headed for the balcony. 

~+~  
“Hiding out I see,” Thomas said. 

Francis exhaled a cloud of smoke and nodded. His brother always had a way of finding him and making his life miserable. But that was mostly on Francis anyway.  
Thomas leaned on the railing of the balcony and lit his own smoke. Their elbows were touching. 

“I hate it here,” Francis said. 

“You have to get out of the house sometimes, so people don’t think we murdered you, or that you’re a vampire,” Thomas replied with a smile. Francis could hear it in his brother’s voice. 

“I do feel like I’m amongst bloodsuckers, so I would be in best company, no?” Francis said. 

Thomas laughed, exhaling smoke. “Probably.” 

“And Bastian and that boy-”

“Francis,” Thomas said. 

Thomas and Bastian had been best friends since they were kids. Once Thomas said what made them thick as thieves was the fact that they had – by accident, Thomas claimed – killed a cat once when they were barley seven. Francis wasn’t sure he believed that story. He could picture Bastian being cruel and careless, no problem there, but Thomas? Not so much. 

“I know he’s your best friend, but I don’t have to like him,” Francis replied. 

“Fair enough. Are you still going to stay to get my drunken ass back home?” 

“Yes,” Francis said and vowed not to drink anymore. 

~+~  
The road to hell was paved with good intentions. 

The guests were getting drunker and drunker by the minute and Francis – was too. He put his half-full glass on a nearby table and took a deep breath. It would do no good to get too drunk. Thomas was usually the one to have to be carried home.  
Thomas, Francis thought, wasn’t the best big brother in the world. But he was Francis’ and Francis loved him beyond reason. 

He just couldn’t stand it. All that falseness and thinly masked cruelty. All that rotting beauty.  
Francis looked around for the boy and finally saw him, sneaking away. It was time to get away from these people and hide out for a while, he thought, and followed the black boy down the deserted corridor of the mansion. 

**~two~**  
Francis passed the odd couple kissing or indulging in more carnal activities. He didn’t look too closely. It made him… kind of uncomfortable, but not really. And he didn’t know if that was a problem or not. Thomas would laugh and say no. 

As he rounded the corner he was caught by the darkness. He had lost the boy and also got lost himself. 

“Merde,” he hissed. 

“That’s not something you should say in polite company,” a voice said and then Francis could see the eyes, white in a dark face. He nearly took a step back, or snarled that he wasn’t in polite company, but that would have been cruel. 

“I got lost-”

“As you were following me?” It was phrased as a question, but it wasn’t one. 

Francis felt caught. How could it be that this boy, no older than fifteen for sure, could make him feel flustered? It didn’t matter much that Francis wasn’t even eighteen yet either. He was noble, this boy was not.  
“Maybe I just wanted to get away,” Francis said. 

The boy smiled. Perfect white teeth, like pearls, Francis thought. 

He waited for something, but didn’t know what. For some kind of response, but then they were interrupted by Bastian of all people. 

“Are you bored already my little one?” He said. There was a mocking tone in his voice and Francis really didn’t know if he was addressing the black boy or him. 

“Maybe,” the boy answered. 

“Let’s play a game then,” Bastian said and grabbed the boy by the hand roughly. The gesture seemed familiar to both of them and Francis looked away, because…it seemed wrong to look. Like it seemed wrong to glimpse the carnal activities that were happening in the alcoves all along the corridor. 

“What about him?” The boy asked. 

Bastian looked at Francis sharply and then smiled, grabbing Francis’ hand. “He can play too. The more the merrier and all that,” he said. When he was excited the French accent thickened and suddenly Francis felt afraid, or something that was close to that feeling. He wanted to struggle, but something in the boy’s face made him reconsider. He wasn’t a cat, and besides Bastian would hardly murder his best friend’s only brother. 

~+~  
It wasn’t, it should have been Francis knew, but it wasn’t a shock to find Thomas already in the bedroom. Francis had had suspicious about the nature of their friendship for some time now. This only drove it home. 

Thomas arched an eyebrow in question when he saw them enter. 

Bastian shrugged. “My little pet wants him,” he said. 

Francis felt…not sick, but something. He pulled his hand away sharply. 

Bastian laughed. “Your brother, he has fire after all.” 

“Bastian,” Thomas chided lightly.

“I’m going to play nice,” Bastian replied, holding up his hand. “Mostly…” A wicked grin curved his pretty lips. Francis wanted to leave, but he couldn’t, because Thomas was getting up and walking over to them, to him and Francis…he loved his brother stupidly and beyond reason. 

“Just watch,” Thomas said softly as he stepped behind Francis. Francis leaned into him. 

He could do that. He nodded. 

~+~

Bastian had the black boy – and Francis still didn’t know his name, maybe he didn’t have one or wasn’t allowed to give it – sitting on a chair, his legs spread, his hands gripping the seat tightly as Bastian ran his hands over his neck, his shoulder, exposing it in the process by brushing away the expensive shirt. The contrast was stark and beautiful and seeing the boy being exposed bit by little bit made Francis’ stomach flip. Bastian’s fingers brushed over a nipple through the thin fabric of the lace, the boy bit his lip. 

“Such pretty, pretty boy-nipples,” Bastian said, kissing the boy’s neck and then licking over the vein. 

“Once we tied him naked to a chair,” Thomas whispered in Francis’ ear, “And played with his nipples until he came untouched.” His breath was sharper, as if he was getting excited again by the memory of it. “It took hours.” 

And that was how his brother spent his time now. Francis suppressed a shiver. He should have felt repulsion, but he didn’t and he couldn’t look away from the black boy and Bastian, who was opening the tiny pearly buttons on the shirt and exposing the boy’s torso completely. His big hands roamed the boy's light frame like big pale stars, or insects of unknown name and origin. 

The boy whimpered when Bastian grazed his cock – just a tease of a touch. Thomas' hand brushed Francis' erection at the same time and Francis bit his lip to keep the moan in. This was crazy and he was probably drunk – and that was no excuse, but- but he had wanted this. Had dreamed about it, shameful dreams that left him hot and bothered and just a little bit disgusted with himself, it never really lasted long, that feeling of disgust. Francis wanted to say something, but nothing made it out of his mouth. Instead he stared at Bastian and the boy. Bastian was kissing the boy's shoulder and up his neck, his cheek, and then he pushed both his index fingers into the boy's mouth. Prying it open none too gently.

“Come on then, Little Lord,” Bastian said. 

Francis didn't know what – and then Thomas pushed him forward, pulled his cock out of his pants and guided Francis' into the boy's mouth. 

“He looks better on his knees,” Thomas said. 

Bastian laughed, “You are a horrible person behind that pretty, pretty face,” he replied. He grabbed the boy by his hair and pushed him down on Francis dick that Thomas was still holding gently in his fingers. Francis cried out then. It was too much, the heat, the softness of the boy's tongue and then the boy sucked and Francis threw his head back and thrust forward without really meaning too. 

“That's it,” Thomas whispered. “Don't hold back. He loves it.” 

The boy hummed and it made Francis crazy with desire and need and he thrust in harder, deeper until the boy choked and still he couldn't stop and no one was prying him away. Instead Bastian was still holding the boy's head in place. Making him take Francis' dick no matter what. When he was about to come Thomas pulled him back and he came with a shout all over the boy's face. The boy was breathing heavily, gulping down air like he had been choked and- yes, Francis' realized dimly, he had been.

~+~

There was wine (or maybe something else) and cigarettes (but maybe they were something else too) and Thomas. Stripping and kissing the boy's lips, running his hands down the boy's thighs up and down and up and down. 

And Bastian watching with these dark blue eyes and Francis could see what Thomas saw in Bastian. That certain cruelty around his mouth: it made his face interesting, even if not beautiful. And the eyes: always sparkling with mischief. 

“I love watching your brother come, Little Lord,” Bastian said. They weren't touching as they watched Thomas play with the boy. As they watched and strained to hear what filthy things he was telling the boy, what he was demanding, what he was promising. 

“Just to take the edge off,” Thomas said loud enough to hear. The boy nodded and began stroking Thomas' cock hard and fast and Francis couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of his brother. Of his brother's dick in the small, lean, dark hands of the boy. The white of the semen looked even paler on the boy's skin. 

Francis was getting hard again. He just couldn't help it and Bastian was laughing, but it didn't matter or madden Francis anymore. 

**~three~**

They were watching again. He and Thomas. His brother a warm presence, his body pressed close and his breath tickling Francis' skin. 

The boy's hands were tied behind his back and his face was pressed into the pillows. Francis could see that his eyes were closed, but his mouth open and looking bruised. From the kissing and cock sucking, his mind supplied. His dick jumped at the thought. 

Bastian was spreading the boy's legs, pushing him into the position he wanted to have the boy in. Spreading his ass-cheeks and licking one, then the other. 

The boy whimpered as Bastian stroked a finger lightly over his balls and then his cock from root to tip. 

“Ready to come, hmm?” he said. 

The boy made a noise that could have been a yes or a please, or a go to hell. Francis didn't know, nor did he care. He was too caught up in this. This game...or whatever they were doing. It was new, it was exciting and Thomas was sharing it with him. Letting him in. 

“You should be able to hold it off,” Bastian mused, “After all we've practised so hard...” 

The boy gasped as Bastian let his fingers dance back the same path. He smeared a bit of pre-come on his way back and then he smacked the boy's ass. It made Francis jump – not the act itself, but the sound of it. The noise the boy made. Half pain, half pleasure. He could feel Thomas getting hard again as well. His brother's erection pushing into the small of Francis' back. Francis’ heart was hammering in his chest. 

Bastian reached for some oil on the night stand and spread it on his dick and then let some dribble into the boy's cleft, pushed a finger inside and made the boy moan. 

A soft, “Oh,” escaped Francis' lips. He had heard about this in half whispers, but he had never thought that people really did it. 

Thomas leaned in. His breath was warm and moist against Francis' ear as he spoke. “Tightest hole you will ever put your cock in, I swear, little brother,” he whispered. There was a smile in his voice again. 

“I-” he cut himself off as Thomas told him to watch and learn. 

And Francis did watch. 

He watched as Bastian grabbed the boy's hips hard and spread the boy's cheeks with his thumbs, rubbing his dick against the boy's ass and then inside the cleft and then he pushed inside and the boy jerked. His fingers curling and uncurling on his back. The position couldn't possibly be comfortable, Francis thought, but it only heightened his lust. The rhythm Bastian set was hard and fast and his fingers were denting the boy's skin. Francis wondered if they would leave marks to trace later.  
For no real reason he was expecting Bastian to pull out before he came, but he didn't. The last thrust shook the boy forward and then Bastian pulled out and rolled onto his back. 

Francis chanced a look at the boy. His eyes were still closed, he was breathing really hard and he still hadn't come. Pre-come dripped onto the sheets and Bastian's seed slid down his legs. 

He looked filthy, debauched, Francis thought, desirable. 

“Come on. Little Lord, your turn,” Bastian said lazily, he turned slightly so he could look at them.  
“You're so hard you can't stand it, no?” 

Francis nodded. 

Bastian beckoned him forward again. He rolled the bottle with the oil into their direction, but Thomas grabbed it first. Before Francis could do anything about it, Thomas was massaging the oil onto his dick. He bit his lip and breathed shallowly. Finally Thomas let go of his cock and kissed his cheek. “Go on,” he whispered. “Have fun.” 

“You don't have to hold back, Little Lord, my pet likes it rough,” Bastian said, “Isn't that true, my little monkey?” 

“Yes,” the boy said. His voice sounded rough. Francis wasn't going to think about the why. 

He crawled over to the boy and positioned himself. His cock was straining like it had a will of its own. He grabbed the boy's hip and then stopped. He breathed. Bastian laughed. “Let me help you,” he said and grabbed Francis' dick, guiding it to the boy's entrance and pushed him forward with his other hand by the small of his back. 

It was hot and tight and – there weren't words to describe it and then he moved and it was even better. Everything, except the little hitching breathes the boy made, fell away. Francis had never felt pleasure like this before. It was bliss and he couldn't care about anything else. He drove his cock in deeper and faster, racing, seeking his orgasm. He loved this, he wanted to do it again, and again, and again. 

He came with a shout, his body slumping forward and his knees going weak. Someone kissed him hard and he didn't even care if it was Bastian. He kissed back, let the demanding tongue inside his mouth, let it explore and suck. 

Then he was jerked away from that mouth and Thomas said, “Greedy, shame on you.” And Bastian laughed and then Francis was kissing his brother for the first time since they were kids. 

He couldn’t be possibly remembering Thomas' taste, but he could swear he actually did. 

Thomas pulled him back into his arms and he slipped out of the boy with an obscene noise. “My turn,” Thomas said. 

He let go of Francis and took the place Francis had occupied just a few moments ago. 

The boy tried to turn around, but Bastian held him by his neck pushing his face and upper body into the cushions. “No,” he said firmly. 

“I can't,” the boy said, “Not with him.” 

“He hits the spot every time I know, my little monkey,” Bastian said leaning down and kissing the boy's back. Licking over his spine. “You taste so good. If you're a good boy I will reward you and if not-” he let the threat hanging, but smacked the boy's ass again, none too gently. The boy jerked and cried out – this time with more pain than pleasure it seemed. “I know you can hold out until we're done with you,” Bastian said. 

The boy nodded. 

Thomas chose that moment to push in. 

~+~

The boy whimpered and bit his lip, alternating. Francis was torn between watching the boy's face, his bond hands on his back – the fingers curling and uncurling restlessly, and the space where Thomas' cock was pushing in relentlessly over and over. As he watched his brother fuck the boy hard, taking his pleasure with little regard to the body beneath him, he wondered how it would feel to be in the boy's place and it was suddenly hard to breath. He grabbed for Thomas' arm to steady himself and Thomas cursed and came with a deep groan. 

For an insane moment Francis had the urge to apologize, but then Thomas turned his head, looked at him, grinned, curled his fingers around his neck and pulled him into a heated and filthy kiss.

~+~

Francis had thought that it would be over then, but he had been wrong. As soon as Thomas pulled out. Bastian made a chiding noise. 

“Look at that,” he said. “All filthy. My little monkey-”

“But he had been good?” Francis ventured, because somehow he felt sorry for the boy. He was still hard and leaking onto the expensive sheets. 

Bastian grinned and grabbed the boy's cock hard. “Yes, he has been a good pet, my little monkey,” Bastian said and then let go of the cock and spread the boy's cheeks. “He deserves a reward,” he added just before he licked the boy's hole. 

Thomas groaned and Francis wondered how that might feel, having someone else’s tongue stuck up your ass. Maybe...maybe he would ask about it. It must have felt really good, because the boy was pushing against Bastian's face, making all of these pretty noises. Francis reached out and intertwined his fingers with the boy's. The boy closed his eyes as he groaned and pleaded without real words. 

At last, after what seemed like hours to Francis, and the boy too, for sure, Bastian sat up and declared the boy clean and fit for company again. 

The boy choked and tried to turn around. “Don't worry,” Bastian said, arranging them so the boy was sitting on his stomach, looking down on Bastian. Thomas had to help hold him up. The boy was bathed in sweat; his dark skin was glistening with a heavy sheen of it. 

“Please,” the boy said, or rather bit out. 

“Please what?” Bastian asked. 

“Please make me come,” the boy answered and Bastian reached for the dark, full, hard, dripping cock and began stroking it. Starting slowly and building up and Francis was amazed that the boy hadn't come the second Bastian had touched him. 

The boy threw his head back as he finally let go, spilling over Bastian's hand. Thomas kissed the boy's cheek. Gently, like he used to kiss Francis goodnight. 

~+~

Afterwards they untied the boy, washed him and put him into bed. Francis was too shy to do more than watch. He felt awkward all of a sudden. Maybe the wine was wearing off. 

While Thomas was washing up in the other room, Bastian pressed Francis' into the wall and looked down at him. Smiling, not grinning, he looked...handsome that way, Francis thought. 

“You should come next weekend too,” Bastian whispered, leaning down to lick Francis' neck. 

Francis shuddered, remembering what that tongue could do and wondering again. “I would love to see you on your knees for your brother,” he continued. 

“I-” He nearly choked on the desire the words invoked in him. 

“Don't worry, I'll show you exactly how he loves it,” Bastian said and then stepped away as Thomas entered the bedroom again. 

“Seducing my baby brother? I'm not enough for you anymore?” Thomas teased. 

Bastian laughed. “Bring him next weekend – I want to watch you fuck his mouth.” 

“Crude,” Thomas replied and then he kissed Bastian and that old feeling, that Francis knew now for sure was jealousy, came rushing back. 

“We have to go,” Francis said. 

“Bring him next weekend,” Bastian repeated. 

“Only if he wants to,” Thomas said with a look at Francis. 

Francis knew he should have said no, but he nodded instead. He was self-aware enough to know that he was pretty much doomed. He could as well get something out of it.

p


End file.
